


Apologies Or Lack Thereof

by watermelonriddles



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Hand Jobs, Knives, M/M, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 13:40:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9443558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watermelonriddles/pseuds/watermelonriddles
Summary: "The words hit Edward like a ton of bricks. It would never have made up for it, but he had been hoping that Oswald would at least feel guilty, that he would regret what he had done, but he didn’t. It made the anger in Edward boil up even more and he snapped."





	

He had gotten Oswald back to the mansion under false pretences. Things had escalated from there. It started in Edward’s bedroom where he had been waiting. He had planned to just talk to him, corner him so that he couldn’t run away or deny what he had done to Isabella, but the second he saw him he punched Oswald in the face.

It caught him off guard, he stepped back, eyes wide, hands over his nose. Blood ran down over his mouth and dripped down to the ground. He stared at Edward for a half second before his shock turned to anger. He dropped his hands, stepped forward, and was about to yell something when Edward landed a blow to Oswald’s stomach. The latter doubled over, wrapping his arm around his middle as he groaned in pain.

“What is this about?” he demanded, anger still evident in his voice.

“I know you killed her,” Edward growled.

Oswald straightened up. Any shock displayed was gone as quickly as it came. He looked for half a second like he might try to deny it but instead went on the side of technicality. “Well, really I didn’t-“

“I don’t care if you just gave the order!” Edward yelled. “You might as well have done it yourself!”

“Sometimes I wish I had,” Oswald snapped before he could stop himself.

The words hit Edward like a ton of bricks. It would never have made up for it, but he had been hoping that Oswald would at least feel guilty, that he would regret what he had done, but he didn’t. It made the anger in Edward boil up even more and he snapped.

He punched Oswald, hard, in several places. Face, chest, stomach, he even got in a few good kicks too. He kept going, blow after blow until Oswald fell back onto the bad. Edward’s hands ached, his knuckles battered and bleeding. He turned away from Oswald and began to examine his hands, focusing on controlling his breathing.

Oswald, on the other hand, curled up and groaned. He dragged himself towards the head of the bed and propped himself against the pillows. He put his head back, eyes closed, trying to focus on his breathing.

“I’m surprised you had it in you.”

Edward stopped what he was doing and slowly turned back to Oswald who still had his eyes closed. To Ed’s surprise Oswald starting laughing. It seemed to come out of nowhere, but it didn’t last too long before he had to stop, the pain too much.

He didn’t know what surprised him more, the fact that Oswald found this whole ordeal laughable, or that he still hadn’t even tried to apologise yet. When Oswald seemed to make no sign of moving Edward went to the chair at his desk and dragged it to the centre of the room. By this point Oswald had opened his eyes, he watched Edward curiously, who crossed the bedroom with great haste and yanked Oswald up from the bed.

He cursed and cried out in pain as Edward helped him to find his balance and then guided him over to the chair. His actions were slow, but they were not careful. He didn’t seem to care about the pain Oswald was in, in fact, he enjoyed it.

Settling Oswald into the chair he practically ripped the tie from around his neck and used it to bind Oswald’s hands together behind the back of the chair. It was the first time he really tried to struggle. Despite the pain he yanked at the binds, trying to free his hands. Edward watched him for a moment, revelling in the fact that Oswald actually looked concerned, perhaps he was getting through to him.

Moving back over to the bed, Edward opened up the little drawer of the bedside table and pulled out a pocket knife. He flipped it open and as he turned Oswald caught sight of it. He instantly stopped struggling and kept his eyes trained on the knife as he spoke.

“Old friend, I-“

“No!” Edward snapped, shutting Oswald up instantly. “You’re going to give me some bullshit excuse or apology until I feel guilty enough to let you go. That’s not good enough, I’m not going to stop until I know that whatever apology comes out of your mouth is genuine.”

“I will not apologise.”

Edward closed his eyes for a moment and smiled. “Well, then things are going to get a whole lot worse.”

“Ed…”  
  
But he'd already slammed the knife down, driving it into Oswald’s leg. The latter screamed, spitting and cursing as Ed removed the knife and stepped back. Blood welled up and spilled out, but nothing too dramatic.

“Lucky, bird, seems like I didn’t hit anything vital.”

“Fuck you,” Oswald said through gritted teeth.

“What’s that?” Edward asked, hand cupped to his ear as if to hear better. “I’m sorry I didn’t quite-“

But he struck with the knife again without even finishing his own sentence. This time slashing the knife across Oswald’s chest, creating a long gash. Again it bled. The blood started to dribble down his chest. It was deep enough to possibly leave some kind of scar, but not deep enough to cause any serious concern.

“I can stop,” Edward reminded. “At any point. You just have to apologise, and hope I believe you.”

A pause. Silence, and then: “I love you.”

Twirling the knife in his hand, he said, “I know.”

“It’s not an apology, but a reason.”

“Not a good one,” Edward said. “You claim you love me, but killing her in some twisted attempt to have me to yourself was not the way to go about it.”

“Like you with that cop.”

The memories of killing Dougherty came flooding back. He shook them away. “It’s not the same.”

“Isn’t it?” Oswald asked. “You killed him because he was in the way of you and her… Kristen, right?”

“Shut up,” Edward said, turning away from Oswald, placing his hands over his ears and closing his eyes as if trying to shut everything out. “He hurt her. Isabella never hurt me.”

“Perhaps that’s all true, but we’re the same.”

Edward’s eyes snapped open. He turned back to Oswald, his hands dropping from his head and gripping the knife even tighter. The same? They weren’t the same and the fact that Oswald would begin to think so angered him.

“We both killed people, we both did it because of someone we claim to love, but we’re different. I felt guilty for killing Kristen, and although I’m glad Officer Dougherty is dead, it led to Kristen dying and it hurt her so for that reason I feel even the slightest bit of regret, but _you_ , you sit there and you act like you’ve done nothing wrong. She didn’t deserve to die and even if she did, you hurt me and you don’t even seem sorry.”

The words all came out quickly, so quickly that Edward thought for a moment that perhaps Oswald hadn’t understood him. The silence wore on between them until eventually Oswald looked away.

“Hurting you was the only downside of my plan,” Oswald admitted. “I never thought you would react that way, and I knew if you found out it was me, it would only hurt you more. But you know me better than anybody else, and as conflicting as it may seem, I’m never going to be sorry for killing her, but I will always be sorry for hurting you.”

Edward lowered his head, he didn’t know which way would have been less painful, finding out as soon as it happened or Oswald continuing to lie to him. It would have struck a chord deep within him either way, but perhaps if Oswald had come clean by himself it would have been something, a start. It took him a long time to fully admit his guilt over Kristen, so perhaps in time things would change for Oswald too, he didn't hold out much hope for that though.

“I’m tired,” Edward said, and they both looked at each other. “Of coming after you, of fighting. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you for what you did, but I don’t want to be stuck here,” he tapped his temple with his fingers, “anymore.”

He stepped forward once more and reached behind Oswald to cut away at the tie. When Oswald’s hands were free he took a step back. He folded the knife and placed it on the dresser before helping Oswald to stand.

They just stood there, Oswald clinging onto him, and for a moment Edward decided to focus on something else, something he had had to push down: Oswald’s feelings. They had been brought up again just now, but with his recent bout of revenge, Edward had avoided even considering them, especially his part in it all.

With his free hand, the one not wrapped around Oswald’s waist, he titled Oswald’s head up and leaned down to kiss him. It was only brief, but as Oswald kissed him back, Edward found himself deepening the kiss before forcing himself to pull away. It gave Edward enough answers for now, but they would have to discuss it in depth at a later date.

Smiling to himself he helped Oswald over to the bed. “I’m not sorry for any of this.”

“I figured,” Oswald said, groaning as he leaned back against the pillows and Edward grabbed the first aid kit from his bathroom.

“This doesn’t mean we’re okay,” Edward said as he cleaned and patched the gash on Oswald’s chest. “It’s going to take a while for us to get back to where we are, but I figure this is my way of saying that we at least have a chance.” He bandaged up Oswald’s leg, who stared at him blankly, clearly confused. Edward finished up and stepped away from his handy work. “It’ll take a lot of work to make things up to me, but this could be what you have to look forward to.”

“Ed, I don’t-“

But he was already undressing, and it was the first interruption of the night that Oswald was happy about. As Edward stripped down until he was completely bare, Oswald came to the realisation that he was unable to move from the bed and would instead just have to watch. He knew then what Ed meant, that this was a one-time thing, a teaser, until he was back in Ed’s good books. Until then there would be no more, and he certainly wouldn’t be able to touch. At least for now Oswald was able to get some kind of pleasure out of this, no matter how small.

Edward had grabbed the chair Oswald had been tied to and had brought it closer. He sat on it and put his head back, eyes closed, legs parted. He took a hold of his cock and took only a few strokes before he was completely hard. He ran his hand up and down, eventually settling on a rhythm. He bit his lip in an attempt to keep in the moans that threatened to spill out, but as the pressure built up and it became too much, they poured out.

His toes curled, and at one point he almost said Oswald’s name, but managed to bite his lip, not wanting to give out that kind of satisfaction just yet. He worked himself harder and faster, every sound coming out of his mouth getting louder and louder, until eventually he came, hard and all over himself.

Panting, he sat up straighter in the chair and examined the mess on his hand. Looking directly at Oswald, who was practically leaning forward and starting, Edward licked at his fingers a little. Oswald’s eyes grew wide and his mouth hung open. With a short laugh and a shrug, Edward got up and wandered towards the bathroom.

“Goodnight, little bird,” he said as he closed the door behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know okay ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) but hopefully you enjoyed(?)
> 
> also, apologies (ha) for any obvious mistakes.


End file.
